Chapter 6 #2
“Do you have any idea who adopted that baby? Any damn clue what nest you’re poking?” His voice had that edge to it, one that might scare someone who hadn’t seen all I had. “You’re asking for a shitstorm, and I’m not sending one of my wolves to die on a whim.”
I cocked my head, trying to understand his hesitation. Death was just part of the game, wasn’t it? I caught his belt loop, yanking until denim strained.
“Not asking you to skin anyone. Just…” My free hand crept up his sternum. “Peek through the curtains. Count how many nightlights they use to keep the monsters away.”
“And how would it even matter? It’s not like Serafina would ever know about it.”
“Because I’ll carve it on one of her lovers’ chests! Duh!” I tapped my temple with one finger. “I want her to know her sacrifice was for nothing.”
Foster looked at me like I’d grown a second head.
My thoughts circled back to Amabel’s face and her cold, dismissive look when she’d told me I was a liability. That I’d only be breathing if not for her constant oversight.
“You constantly undermine our long-term plans with your need for immediate gratification.”
The memory stung, fresh and sharp. Wait. Watch. Patience. Planning.
Fuck patience.
I crowded against him again, my fingers rubbing across his chest, all sharp smiles and dangerous eyes.
“Come on, Foster.” I stretched up on my toes until my lips nearly brushed his jaw. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
The forest exhaled when he lunged. His forearm pressed into my throat, driving me back against a tree.
“Listen close, psycho. Alphas don’t play games when it comes to protecting pups. They won’t stop at killing whatever mutt I send. They’ll trace it back to me. To you.”
“Scaredy cat.” I grinned around the pressure choking me.
“Scared? Baby, I know a guy in a wolf pack down South who’s shredded entire bloodlines for less than what you’re suggesting. It’s too risky.”
“But where’s the fun in safety? You want to spend your life licking Mother’s boots? Or,” my teeth grazed his dark skin, “we could give them a story worth howling about.”
“No,” he growled. “I’m not approving a suicide mission just because you’re pissed at Amabel. Not happening.”
I could see he meant it, really meant it, in the rigid set of his jaw, in those dark eyes that refused to yield. Fine. If he wouldn’t give me what I wanted, I’d take something else.
Ever since I discovered that Foster fucked like a beast, he’d become my favorite playmate. He had a huge dick, stamina, and zero interest in being gentle. Everything I needed in a lover at no emotional cost or personal investment.
It was like winning the lottery the day I’d spotted him amid the rogues and lured him back to my room with a whispered dare, “Bet you can’t last long enough to fuck me til I pass out.
” He’d only had two questions—“Are you at least eighteen?” and “Are you on birth control?”—and I knew right then he would service me nicely for as long as Mother allowed him to live.
Now, I pouted, my lower lip pushing out in a way I knew made me look vulnerable.
“Coward,” I whispered to the swaying ferns.
“Say that again, crazy.”
My pulse quickened. Not with fear. I didn’t know fear, but from the electric prickle that came just before a lightning strike.
“Make me stop,” I purred.
He moved like water over stone, fluid and fast. Calloused hands yanked me up, and I arched into the pain of his grip with an excited giggle.
“The hell’s wrong with you?” He shook me like a ragdoll, my forehead bouncing off his sternum.
“So many things!” I laughed.
When he released me, I climbed up his body and sank my teeth into the corded muscle where his shoulder met his throat. Not enough to draw blood. Just enough to make him hiss.
“Fuck, Eluned!” he growled, but his hands were gripping my thighs and wrapping them around his waist.
“Yes, please do. Like you did yesterday in the barn. I still have the bruises.”
His laugh was dark and bitter, just like him, but his body was already responding. I could feel his cock hardening, and a thrill of triumph shot through my veins.
“You’re one crazy ass bitch,” he said, but he was already carrying me deeper into the woods.
“Amabel has enough sanity for both of us,” I giggled, then savaged his earlobe with my teeth.
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he reached a fallen oak, peeled me off of him, and turned me around. Before I could catch my breath, he pushed me to my knees and bent me over the thick trunk, then flipped up my dress as he knelt behind me.
“Last chance to change your mind.” His fingers paused, hooked in my panties.
“You say that every time.” I licked the drool at the corner of my mouth, my whole body quivering in anticipation. “You should know by now I’m never going to do something sensible like that.”
Fabric ripping sent another thrill through me. I heard his zipper, felt the heat of him against my ass and thighs, and then—
“Oh, shit!” I shrieked as he did exactly what I’d asked.
No gentleness, no kissing, no foreplay. Just pure, animal force that made my legs shake and my vision blur. Exactly what I needed.
“Harder!” I demanded, pushing back against him and bracing my hands on the tree trunk.
He pulled out and slammed back in with enough force to jostle my tits out of my bra, and I screamed with laughter. Here was the storm Amabel kept caged, the chaos she denied us both.
“Louder.” Foster’s fingers twisted in my hair, yanking my head back, and I moaned at the pleasure-pain. “Let everyone hear what a whore you are.”
As I howled for him, he drove in deeper, harder, faster, one hand fisted in my hair and the other slipping around to pinch and pull my left nipple.
And my mind finally, blissfully, went quiet. No thoughts of Amabel or Mother or plans or failures. Just sensation, raw and overwhelming and liberating like nothing else could ever be.
“Hurts so good,” I crooned against the rotting bark. “Leave more marks.”
He obliged, dragging my head to the side and sinking his teeth into my nape, his fingers gripping my tit in a punishing hold. As his pace turned wild, the world narrowed to wet slaps and animal sounds until my climax ripped through my body, stars detonating behind my eyelids.
Giving my tit a final rough squeeze, he released my hair and smacked my right ass cheek, then pulled out and came all over his handprint.
Through my harsh, heavy pants, I heard him zip up his jeans. When I found the energy to turn my head, he was already walking away without a backward glance.
“Sweet dreams, crazy lady,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the darkness.
I collapsed against the log, utterly spent, savoring the feel of his seed sliding down my ass cheek. My body hummed with pleasure, my skin tingling where his fingers had dug in. I’d be covered in bruises tomorrow. Such delicious souvenirs.
Eventually, I staggered upright. My dress hung in tatters, my hair a snarl. I glanced down at the shredded remains of my underwear and giggled, leaving them draped over the log. A little present for Foster to find later. Maybe he’d keep them as a trophy.
The last of my anger had burned away, replaced by a strange, floating lightness. Singing, I skipped toward home.
“One to wish,
Two to lie,
Three to kiss,
Four to die.”
I registered the twigs and stones beneath my bare feet as just enough pain to keep my mind quiet. The night air kissed my flushed skin through the tears in my dress, and I twirled occasionally, skirt flaring out around my thighs.
If Amabel wouldn’t act, I would. Simple as that. Tomorrow, I’d find a mutt stupid enough to spy on that baby brat.
And if her new alpha caught him and skinned him alive? Well…
I grinned up at the slice of moon visible through the trees.
That’s just part of the fun.